Aspiration
Over the heights the snow lies deep,
Sunk is the land in peaceful sleep;
Here by the house of God we pray,
Lead, Lord, our souls to-day.
Shielding, like the silent snow,
Fall his mercies here below.
Calmly then, like the snow-bound land,
Rest we in his protecting hand;
Bowing, we wait his mighty will:
Lead, Lord, and guide us still.
C. Alice Elgar
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